The Beach Episode
by DoctorStonegarden
Summary: In which the gang - try to - take a well-deserved break, a lot of nasty monsters are summoned, and Merlin's nipples are referenced.
1. A Capital Notion

_**A/N; **__If you ever have some free time when you're around the internet, I recommend perusing TV Tropes. Just be warned; becoming Genre Savvy is a great thing, but the process of acquiring it will leave you a pale, malnourished, hysterical wreck as you view yet another article on Brick Jokes and Fridge Logic._

_I digress._

_TV Tropes gave me inspiration for this next fic from the Beach Episode article._

_A Beach Episode is self-explanatory; everyone goes to the beach, and end up doing what they normally do anyway. _

_But on a beach. _

_In swimwear._

_Of course, if you live in Camelot, where every other hunting trip is beset with disaster, __a Beach Episode should be given some consideration. But apparently in Arthurian Albion, Genre Savviness is as despised and feared as sorcery, so I digress and invite you to read on._

"You've never been to a beach?"

"Nope."

Merlin paused in laying out Arthur's clothes, though the prince's bed continued to make itself. Even after three months of discovering his manservant was a sorcerer, Arthur was still a little unnerved by Merlin's magical multi-tasking. But he'd long since accepted that Merlin wasn't evil, and had promised himself that one day his friend wouldn't have to hide in the shadows for what he was, his father be damned.

"Everyone's been to the beach, Merlin!"

"Not when you live in a tiny village nowhere near the coast."

Arthur shook his head.

"Such a deprived childhood."

"I'm living in a happiness-deprived adulthood, thanks to you!"

The empty goblet stopped in midair, causing Arthur to sigh wearily.

"Well, there was that one time…" Merlin began, hesitantly.

"Yes…?"

"The Labyrinth of Gedref? That was on a beach. But it was stony and really hot and I was too focused on you trying to sacrifice yourself for me. And then I had to carry you most of the way back to Camelot. Oh, and when we went to the castle of Fyrien to rescue Elyan. But that wasn't really a beach; it was technically a wave-cut platform, if those books on-"  
>"Alright, Merlin, you've never been to the seaside without being on a dangerous mission of some kind."<p>

"I've been to plenty of lakes, though. Seen a fair few ponds and rivers. A couple of streams."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Right! That settles it. We are going to the beach."

Merlin looked horrified at the prospect. Arthur's eyes were once more rotated.

"With other people, not just you and me. Like a… break. I think we all deserve a break from… everything."

"What about Camelot? We can't just go gallivanting off to the seaside…"  
>"Gaius says my father's getting better. I think it will be an opportunity to see how well he does when I'm not there."<br>Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Of course, we'll have to tell the council that they're to step in if…" Arthur trailed of.

"If he goes near his dressing gown again, or starts shouting 'sorcerer!' at everyone he sees."

"It's been a week since he last accused someone, and three since he touched his dressing gown."

"Those pranks of ours must really be doing the trick."

Since Uther had attempted to capture Merlin – in disguise as Emrys, master warlock and secret protector of Camelot – the manservant had inflicted all manner of hilarious tricks upon the King, and Uther's weekly efforts to catch the disguised warlock had dragged him out of his madness; three months later Uther was mostly normal, though a sustained conversation was extremely difficult. And then there was the dressing gown.

Arthur gleefully participated in Merlin's pranks, to the point they were almost a joint effort.

He did it for his father's sanity, of course.

Of course.

**X**

"Right," Arthur rose up in his saddle, addressing the royal household, the advisors, and the knights of Camelot, "We'll arrive at the beach by evening. We'll spend the next day there, and then set off early morning to be back in Camelot by the evening. If there is anything urgent, you know where we are going, and we do not plan to deviate from the road."

The council nodded.

"This is the first real test of my father's sanity. If he becomes incoherent or mentions the you-know-what, he is to be confined to his chambers. Good luck."

With that, the Crown Prince of Camelot turned his horse and trotted from the castle, small party in tow.

The five Knights of the Round Table, the prince himself, Gwen, Merlin, and finally Gaius – who had been coaxed into coming along despite his protests – rode out from Camelot in search of a relaxing break on a lovely beach.

But of course, in a land when every hunting trip is beset by bandits and beasts, nothing goes to plan.

Merlin knew this, and had raised the issue with Arthur, who was adamant that a holiday was necessary. Especially now that Merlin was able to keep an eye on things in Camelot with the power of scrying, a new but temperamental addition to the young warlock's arsenal of tricks.

Everyone else was happy, but Merlin's badness detector, his sixth sense that was the bane of Camelot's enemies and made him not nearly as useless as he appeared to be, was nudging him as if to say 'bad idea'.

But he couldn't help but ignore it; Gwaine had already half-emptied his first gourd of ale within sight of Camelot, and was now engaged in an unsteady horseback thumb-war with Percival, who protested furiously each time Gwaine withdrew his arm at the first sign of losing; Arthur was talking to Gaius about his father, the prince looking brighter than he'd been for months; Gwen and Elyan were chatting amicably; the maid sat straight in her saddle and a frown never once creased her brow; Lancelot and Sir Leon rode at the front, deep in conversation, probably gossiping. The two knights were noble to fault, but once they had discovered this trait in each other they had lapsed into a habit of guiltily discussing the faults of their less righteous peers.

Only Merlin, at the very back and twitchier than a proverbial rabbit, remained wary, but even then he couldn't help but smile at the lightened mood.

Even so, there were still unanswered questions three months on still preying on his mind; how had-

"Merlin?"

Merlin smiled at Arthur, who had noticed his manservant's thoughtful expression and dropped back to ride beside him.

"Oh, nothing. There are just some questions I'd like to ask Morgana if I had her at my mercy."  
>"Such as…?"<br>"Well, how she healed Morgause, for one. She was almost dead after I hurled her into that pillar, yet a month later she looked better than ever. Either she had a whole clan of Druids using all their magic to heal her non-stop for weeks, or Morgana used the Cup of Life."

"And… that's a problem why?"

Merlin sighed.

"I last saw the Cup in the same room as Morgause and Morgana, after I emptied it of the blood of their immortal army. How did it get from under a pile of rubble to Morgana's hands? My guess is that she went to the Isle of the Blessed.

"Where you went when you wanted to exchange your life for mine?"

"Mmm. I think the Cup probably went back there, to where it belongs; but that gives us a bigger problem."

"Er…"

"Merlin frowned and stared down at the neck of his mare, patting the animal absent-mindedly.

"If Morgause was dead when they got there, that means Morgana has the power to Mirror Life and Death, or she found someone who did who was willing, which is unlikely."

"The Power you used to-"  
>"Yes, when I blew up Nimueh and brought back Gaius." Merlin shuddered involuntarily. "If Morgause wasn't dead, she still would have needed a sacrifice to preserve the balance of the world, and the Cup itself rather than just some water that had been in it. We can only hope that's the case."<p>

"So… Morgana may be able to control who lives and who dies?"

Merlin nodded. "Nimueh had the Power, and she let herself be corrupted by it. If Morgana has it…"

The two of them cast their eyes down, the sounds of merriment in front of them washing over them.

"That's not everything that's bothering you, Merlin."

"Well, my ability to sense evil plots and danger to you and Camelot is telling me this is a bad idea."

"Pfff. We'll only be gone a few days, and we all need a rest."  
>"We can rest once Camelot is safe."<br>"Merlin! You're starting to sound like my father!"  
>"Sorry. I think destiny is getting to me."<p>

"Nothing is going to go wrong, Merlin. It's just a little trip to the beach."

Merlin grinned impishly.

"When everything goes wrong…"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"It's a good thing you packed that robe of yours. Though I can't see why you don't want to tell them."

Merlin squirmed, wrestling with the desire to come clean at the same time as protecting his friends from what could happen if he told them.

"Not yet. Besides, you never know who could be watching. I hate to think of the repercussions if Morgana found out that Emrys is the meddling manservant she hates with a passion."

"The enchantments you put on your scarf should prevent that, though?"

"To a point. If she sees any distinguishing things she associates with me, it might break the enchantment's power over her."  
>"Things like your ears?" Arthur grinned at his manservant.<p>

"Yes, prat, my ears. Or maybe just my normal voice. Who knows, she might even be able to recognise me from the little scar next to my nipple! The enchantment isn't foolproof."

Arthur looked askance at the warlock.

"Why would Morgana recognise you from your nipples?"  
>"What are you suggesting?"<p>

"That you've been in a situation with an evil witch that would allow her to recognise your nipples!"

"I – I never!"

"Then why did you suggest it?"  
>"Can we please stop talking about <em>my nipples<em>?" Merlin sagged as he realised he'd shouted. A murder of crows rose screeching from a nearby tree, startled.

Gaius's Eyebrow of Doom had disappeared into his silvered hairline.

Percival and Gwaine's hands were locked in mid-air; Gwaine being the more pragmatic, seized the opportunity and put an end to the ongoing thumb war.

Leon and Lancelot coughed. Elyan whistled, and Gwen blushed furiously, but not as much as Merlin, who had turned a remarkable shade of magenta.

Gaius shook his head.

"I always knew there was something going on between the two of you."

"Wrong story, Gaius." The rest of the party chorused.

Gwaine had to be tied to his saddle, drunk and laughing so hard you would have been forgiven for thinking he was drowning. His silent hysteria lasted all the way to the beach.

**X**

Through the forest, over a river and small marsh, and finally the group rode over the top of some sand dunes.

"This is much better than the Labyrinth of Gedref."

"I told you, Merlin!"

The beach stretched in a wide, crescent moon arc of soft yellow-white sand. To the north some grey cliffs rose laboriously, the other end of the beach terminating in a promontory. Behind them, the sun cast a burning disk on the gently rippling water in the half-light.

The manservant tutted and began to set up camp on the beach while everyone save Gaius rushed down to the sea.

Surreptitiously Merlin magicked the tents up in a sheltered spot amongst the dunes, earning an Eyebrow Look from Gaius.

"I want to get down to the sea as much as everyone else!"

The old man shook his head as Merlin scurried away to look for driftwood. Gaius gently took a seat atop the dune, and smiled as his ward attempted a cartwheel, slipping on the pliant, dusty sand, raising laughs.

Merlin was back to normal at last.

_**A/N; **__I should probably do some more work on my Merlin/Sherlock crossover, but this is too much fun._


	2. My Merlin Senses Are Tingling

That evening was the closest thing to idyll Merlin had been in months; everyone was happy, laughing, joking, relaxed.

Merlin ignored the twinge of warning in his stomach, and joined in with the merriment.

The fire crackled as Gwaine finally succeeded in getting Gaius tipsy from his alcohol supply, and the old man soon had the drunkard, Percival, and Elyan in stitches as he regaled them with tales from his career; Gwen and Arthur strolled hand in hand by the water's edge, the perfect picture of love, the last glimmers of orange winking on the sand at their feet. Lancelot and Leon were fighting with sticks, periodically collapsing with laughter, completely out of character for the two men. Merlin himself was quite happy to simply let the peace wash over him, staring up at the stars and smiling faintly.

Everything was going to be just fine.

**X**

As always, the day went right before it went wrong.

Everyone except Gaius had a swim, Arthur teased Merlin mercilessly for being so skinny, then there was a contest to see who could jump furthest from the top of the low cliffs at the end of the beach. Merlin leapt the furthest, earning an Eyebrow from Gaius – who sat out again, complaining of back pain – and a knowing look from Arthur.

Fish were fished.

Walks were had.  
>Sandcastles were made.<p>

Laughter was laughed.

And of course, Merlin was wrapped in a towel when the trouble started.

**X**

Morgause took her sister's hand, and the two of them stepped carefully down the steps of the crumbling castle.

Morgana's legs – broken after being magically thrown from a window by a certain warlock – were healed in theory, but Morgause was taking no chances with her beloved sister; the work of herself and the boy Mordred and the scant few sorcerers who had fled before they were slain by Emrys could be for naught if Morgana so much as stumbled in her fragile state.

"I thought we might go for a ride today, sister. It has been so long since you have been outside the castle."

Morgana nodded, smiling at her sister, glad she had someone like Morgause who loved her unconditionally, and would never betray her.

_Unlike some…_

Morgana banished the vengeful thoughts that rose unbidden in her mind; no, she would not think about her enemies who had robbed her of her throne, lied and backstabbed for years. She would enjoy this day out with her sister.

She would have like to enjoy this day, but coincidences have a funny way of ruining things like rides in the forest with loved ones.

The crisp, morning air was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the castle. Dew clung to the hooves of their mounts as they nosed through the tangled boughs of the woods, when they came across the West Road.

"Let us turn back, sister; this is farther than I intended to come today."  
>Morgana nodded and spun her horse around to follow her sister, when she heard voices; strangely familiar ones…<p>

"Sister!" Morgana carefully dismounted her horse, leaving it behind a conveniently dense huddle of birch trees. Morgause followed, and the two she-witches of doom secreted themselves in a bush a safe distance from the road.

"What is it, Morgana?"

"Those voices…"

The voices became louder, laughs and jokes snaking through the trees to the ears of the two witches.

"Could it be?" Morgause whispered.

Morgana was about to part the leaves and scrutinise the raucous group on horseback when a loud emission from one of their members made that act of sneakiness redundant.

"Can we please stop talking about _my nipples_?"

The two sisters shared a dark, dark look.

"_Merlin_." The two said in unison.

"And wherever that meddling manservant is…" Morgause began.

"Arthur cannot be far behind." Morgana finished. _Smirk_.

Morgana couldn't resist; she parted the leaves of the bush, let go of her inhibitions, and allowed her blood to curdle at the sight of the man who had poisoned her, who had foiled her every plot to usurp the Pendragons of Camelot, no matter how cunning.

She was all for jumping out and blasting the boy out of his saddle, and taking her damn brother with him, and all of those knights having fun, and Gwen and that senile physician-

"Caution, sister."  
>Morgause's touch calmed Morgana's boiling blood.<br>"You are right, sister. We cannot be hasty."

**X**

Merlin whistled discordantly as a reminder to anyone who happened to be nearby that this little hollow in the dunes was occupied by a changing warlock.

Merlin quickly wrapped a towel around himself and hastened to extract his clothes from his pack.

The warlock shook out his breeches, dropping the towel and making to bring himself to decency; but then, someone screamed.

Sighing, Merlin crouched and peered over the top of the dune; there, in the middle of the beach, his friends were surrounded by creatures of the Old Religion; griffins, wyverns, a chimera, a bastet or two…

Arthur was the only one who had kept his sword, but the other assumed ready stances, ushering Gaius and a terrified Gwen into the middle; the chimera lunged, but recoiled as if stung, all three heads roaring.

Merlin growled as a tornado of sand spiralled into the air, revealing two familiar figures.

Morgana's cloak of dried-blood red settled down and pooled around her feet.  
><em>Smirk<em>.

The effect was somewhat ruined when her heels sunk into the powdery sand, causing her to stumble.  
>Morgause, in more practical breeches and flat shoes, fared better.<p>

After a small struggle Morgana was able to cut short the union of her shoes and the sand, and started the duologue.

"We're so sorry to interrupt your little holiday, Arthur."

"You're looking much better, Morgana."

_At least yo__u didn't ask her what she wants this time…_ Merlin's cynicism muttered to itself.

"No thanks to your pet warlock, who is nowhere in sight. We're ready for him this time." Morgause said.

The two sisters laughed.

"What makes you think my pet warlock won't _suddenly appear_ and _blow you to pieces_?" Arthur glanced meaningfully at the sand dunes.

Merlin took the hint and began to tug his breeches over his feet.

Morgause and Morgana frowned and turned to the dunes – and nothing happened.

Merlin cursed, one foot in his breeches, as he realised his enchanted neckerchief and his robe were in the main camp, in full sight of the beach.

"It seems, Arthur, that your protector is… unaware of your need." _Smirk__**.**_

"Even your insufferable manservant isn't tripping over himself to get killed for you." Morgause added a sneer.

"That's because he's naked!" Merlin yelled over the top of the sand and stiff grass.

Morgana, of course, smirked. Morgause grinned and turned back to the group being menaced by her little horde of monsters. "If you attack them or try to escape, you will die, like your interfering friend up there will when we catch him."

With that, the two witches joined hands and disappeared in a flurry of wind and stinging sand.

**X**

Merlin sprinted, his pack in one hand, the other hand clutching the folds of his towel. While Arthur's insinuation that Morgana had seen his nipples was about to become true, Merlin was _not_ going to let her see anything else.

The eaves of the pine forest beckoned to the fleeing warlock. Were this any other time he might have taken a deep breath of the resin-scented air, taken a gentle walk on the crackling pine needles and listen to the welcoming crepitating beneath his feet. He could stroke the cragged-

_Smirk_.

"_Astrice!_"

"Ow."

Struggling to maintain a grip on his bag and towel, Merlin was flung back by Morgana's spell.

Hastily, the warlock abandoned his pack in favour of safeguarding more vulnerable areas, for the tug of magic on his towel was threatening his decency.

Naked and disguise-less, Merlin castigated his ill-fortune.


	3. Emrys To The Rescue, Again

Alone. In the woods. With a pair of nasty witches bent on revenging themselves upon him.  
>Oh, crap.<p>

Merlin fought the urge to wave his hands and set them on fire; they were already a danger to Camelot without knowing he was a sorcerer.

Besides, he needed his hands to protect something else.

Morgana's smirk morphed into a fully fledged, devilish smile.

"This is even better than Uther in his bedclothes!"

Merlin's muttered curses only served to further amuse the sister-witches of doom.

Morgause's critical eye swept across Merlin.

"A pity… if you weren't so annoying I would have considered taking you to my be-"  
><em>Step away from Merlin, Morgause…<em>

A familiar, rough voice echoed through the minds of the three present, bringing a wide smile to Merlin's face.

"I hope you've got some spare trousers, Emrys!" the warlock shouted up at the sky, making a show of looking around for the elusive sorcerer.

The two sisters glanced around fearfully. There was no-one in sight; Morgana snarled, raising a hand.

_Do you really want to take that chance?_

Morgana moved closer to her sister, still looking around for the warlock who threatened to bring hell upon them.

"Pah! You have saved your beloved prince's fool of a manservant, but you will never get to Arthur in time!" Morgause and Morgana joined hands, and with an ominous chant, they vanished in a flurry of leaves.

As soon as they were gone, Merlin sprang into action; with a flash of golden eyes, his pack opened, the blue robe springing to his feet.

Merlin hastily made himself decent and magicked the robe over his head while he laced up his breeches.

Praying that no-one would recognise his boots, Merlin pulled the hood over his head.

Now… how to make a dramatic entrance without risking the death of his friends?

Under his hood, Merlin grinned.

_I suppose it's worth a try again…_

Crouching, and glad that no-one was around to see him if he failed, Merlin jumped, willing himself into the air.

**X**

Okay, so Emrys had foiled their plan to kill the hapless manservant.

But he couldn't be everywhere, could he? He'd have to help Merlin before he would aid the prince, and even if he could teleport over, there was little he could do to help piles of quivering flesh rent by the claws of chimeras and griffins.

No matter how quickly they intended to kill the prince and his companions, the sisters made the same mistake they always did, and gloated.

As soon as a suitably dramatic pause had lapsed between appearing and the sand their teleportation had kicked up falling down, the sisters continued their customary duologue.

"Your pet warlock is changing your precious manservant's nappies. There's no way he can get here in time." Morgause smirked almost as evilly as her sister, who – it had to be said – had an almost unbeatable devilish smirk.

Arthur couldn't help but grin, and looked up to the sky above as something caught his eye.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Morgause."

A dark, narrow shape was hurtling through the air far above, arcing from the woods beyond the dunes.

The figure's flight reached its zenith, and plummeted towards the sand. Too late, Morgana gasped and raised her hand, but a blue blur slammed into the sand, kicking up a small duststorm.

Rising from a suitably dramatic crouch, Emrys dusted something imaginary from his shoulder, and addressed the two sisters.

"Merlin is much braver than you give him credit for."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Behind him, Gaius couldn't help but grin, and Lancelot frowned imperceptibly.

Morgause's arrogance reasserted itself.

"You are surrounded!"  
>"As I recall, I was surrounded last time."<p>

Morgana snarled, motioning for the beasts to attack.

Emrys clapped his hands together, and the creatures of the Old Religion were forced back by some invisible power.

Raising his arms, he cried out to the circling wyverns above.

"_Ámundian __**sé **__æðeling____and gædelings!"_

The wyverns screeched in recognition of their new orders, falling upon the beasts below them.

"I suppose I should say that I am the last Dragonlord."

The sisters stared, dumbfounded as their formerly enslaved wyverns clawed at the remaining menagerie of monstrous minions. Screeches filled the air, the two bastets and a griffin rising up to bring the fight to the rebellious reptiles.

Emrys pointed at the chimera, shouting a suitably impressive spell to smite the beast.

"_Scyte_, _lígegesa! Dynt sé féond!_"

A towering column of flame reared up from the sand, twisting and frothing with scorching magic. At last it formed something indescribably monstrous, something that could be a snake or a dragon or a monster from the darkest depths of the ocean or a nameless thing dragged from the rocks in the gloomiest recesses of the earth-

Whatever it was, it was very scary, made of fire, and blew up the chimera.

Sparks and ashes drifted lazily to the ground, dreamlike. Gaius had been hiding in his broom closet during Emrys's first appearance, and marvelled at the skill and ease with which his ward had dispatched the chimera. Arthur could only grin.

Merlin. Clumsy, incompetent Merlin was anything but what he appeared.

As Emrys, he moved with a grace and surety that no-one would guess the bumbling young man could possess. He spoke with an authority few could muster. He cursed his enemies, and they fell, regardless of who they were.

At that moment, Arthur's pride grew tenfold, as did his grin.

The remaining beasts drew back, wary and fearful, resentful of the witches who had forced them into this hopeless fight.

"_Ic __líesinga fram __sé__scinnlæces ealdordómlicnes!"_

The screeching of the menagerie died down as the iron grip of Morgause's enchantment was suddenly shattered like so many windows. A host of angry, bestial eyes were turned on the two witches who had dared to ensnare the free will of the beasts. Emrys folded his arms, and there was no doubt that the warlock was smiling beneath his hood and mask.

**X**

Dirty, bedraggled, and seemingly determined to protect his prince, Merlin bounded over the dunes with a leap that would have made any mythical hero proud, sword in hand, and a war cry on his lips; one which died as soon as his eyes took in the grinning faces and the ashes of something big, monstrous, and dead.

It was all an act, of course.  
>Arthur, standing at the shoreline with Gwen, shot his secret protector a wink and ran up the beach to make a show of being prattishly concerned.<p>

"Merlin! Where have you been?"

Merlin grinned impishly.

"Standing naked in a forest waiting for a mighty sorcerer to lend me some trousers."

Arthur folded his arms, apparently determined to not let Merlin get away with tardiness this time.

"I know you're always late, Merlin, but we _were_ surrounded by monsters."  
>"You <em>were<em>, Arthur."  
>"That doesn't change the fact that you could've come running instead of waiting for Emrys to give you some clothes!"<br>"What did you expect me to do? Hit them with my p-"

"_Mer_lin."

The two of them rolled their eyes in perfect unison.

**X**

Uther was surprised to find that his son and his band of friends were back from their little excursion early.

He really should have noticed that Arthur never came back from a trip of any kind without enduring an assassination attempt or something, but when you're a raving lunatic of a king obsessed with catching the world's greatest sorcerer little things like that escape your notice.

Thankfully, Arthur was unharmed.

_Un_thankfully, his state of well-being was entirely down to the intervention of aforementioned World's Greatest Sorcerer.  
>What could he possibly want?<br>He claimed to protect Camelot, but that was probably a front; he was no doubt in league with Morgause… and – dare he admit it? – _Morgana_.

Her betrayal was still as fresh as it had been when she had come down to see him in dungeons, chained up as so many of his enemies had been before him, triumph and evil glowing in her eyes.

Uther desperately wanted to believe she was enchanted, coerced, _something_! He couldn't resign himself to the fact she had hardened her heart and turned her back on Camelot, on Arthur, on her father. _Him_.

Every little rumour of every little evil deed reminded him, and each reminder was like a blow to the guts.

Uther had been a little bit cuckoo before all this madness started. But now he revelled in his insanity, if it meant he didn't have to face Morgana's betrayal. Arthur would be Prince Regent for a while yet.

**X**

"You are sure Emrys made no threats to _anyone_?" It was the day after their early return; Uther hadn't executed anyone, or declared war, or done something spectacularly stupid in their absence.

"Only Morgause and Morgana, father." Arthur replied, a touch of weariness entering his voice. This was the third time his father had asked in the space of ten minutes, after all. Dressed normally and seated comfortably upon his throne, Uther looked as though he'd never been mad. Of course, that was just outward appearances; now that Morgana's betrayal was once again being rubbed in his face, it was only a matter of time before the King called for his dressing gown and did some finger painting with the long-suffering, elderly Sir Borous.

"Are you _sure_?"  
>"Yes, father," The creeping fingers of irritation pinched tight and noticeably so in his voice. "He even lent Merlin some trousers."<p>

Merlin fidgeted, rubbing the cuffs of his shirt between finger and thumb nervously as Uther fixed him with a penetrating gaze.

"Are those the trousers that he… gave you?"  
>Merlin swallowed, utterly terrified.<p>

"Yes, sire."

Uther's face was immediately contorted with sudden, suspicious rage.

"Seize his trousers! They must be enchanted!"

"FATHER!"

Uther ignored the protests of his son as a reluctant group of guardsmen wrestled Merlin to the ground and reached for the laces of his breeches.

Arthur couldn't help but grin as Merlin, red-faced from embarrassment and fury, overpowered the six guards, apparently with more strength than anyone thought the impossibly skinny young man could possess.

With a final glare at Uther that made the King - who had never believed a mere servant could be the owner of such a terrifying stare – tense up in his throne, Merlin stormed from the great hall, his mighty posture and withering eyes completely at odds with the little squeaks his old boots made on the floorboards.

A few hours later, as the ferocious - and unexpected - summer storm that had rocked the citadel to its very core abated, a dozen hailstones larger than ostrich eggs were discovered in the King's bedchamber, having smashed through the windows and admitted the icy deluge.

The King naturally blamed the ruination of his chambers on Emrys, and redoubled his efforts to catch the elusive warlock.

Merlin's trousers remained on his legs, except for when they disappeared for a week or two under his bed.

And so, everything was back to normal, again.


End file.
